Provoking
by Fairady
Summary: Sometimes, he found them soon enough. Roy x Havoc


Disclaimer: If I owned, Havo would feel like a walking piece of meat for the entirety of the series.

Warnings: Sex is present but not center stage, desire however rules this play. Hetish and slashish to boot!

Notes: I love the idea of Roy obsessing over Havoc and was exploring buttons when I wrote this. While re-reading it I realized that it's actually sort of a prequel to loreamara's fic, Repercussion, which you should read. Really. Check my profile for the link.

Provoking  
by Fairady

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This one had to be his best timing yet. Roy stood up and allowed the woman to hold onto his shoulders as she shivered back to herself. He rolled his tongue against his cheek, searching for the faint taste as he buried his nose in her blonde hair. Cheap perfume didn't mask the smell of cigarettes and alcohol, not even in the slightly fetid alley they stood in.

"Call me," Roy said with a smirk when the woman gathered herself enough to stand on her own. Pressing the tips of her fingers to his lips before leaving.

He'd already forgotten her name by the time he was only a block away from the alley. It didn't matter. If she called Hawkeye would deal with her. Most of the women Roy told to call never tried more than just the once. Hawkeye could give him all the stern lectures in the world about that, but he knew his subordinate truly enjoyed verbally cutting those women down.

Hawkeye had a well hidden soft spot for Havoc after all, and any chance to give grief to the women who betrayed him was relished.

But that was later. Tomorrow or the next day, whenever tonight's woman gathered the courage to call.

Roy hummed to himself as he slowly made his way home. In no hurry for once. Spring had finally broken through and the night was actually pleasant. The empty streets also allowed him to indulge himself a bit. Allowed him time to think, to remember.

_Taste_.

She'd been coy at first. A flirty kiss to his nose, an abandoned gambit for his lips. Roy had put an end to that game though. Holding her still and kissing her deeply. She'd tasted of alcohol. Rum underlied by the bitterness of coffee but under it all a familiar taste. Peid's whiskey. A cheap but almost lethal drink that most sane people stayed far away from.

_Smell_.

She had been the one to drag him into the nearest alley. A damp and dark place, but very suitable for their purposes. She'd pressed against him, her head coming to his chin and it had been easy to smell the scents trapped in her hair. It was a barroom smell. Cigarette smoke and alcohol overlaying a cheap perfume applied much earlier in the day. It was the smoke that drew his attention. Long association picking out the subtly different scent of Lucky 7's.

_Feel_.

The brick wall may have been cold enough to make her shiver so violently, or maybe she'd really just been that sensitive to his fingers pushing past that last barrier. Stretching clothing aside and easily sliding into her. She was hot and more than ready for more. Wet from her own desire and the remains of her last encounter.

_And taste_.

Whatever she'd expected, Roy dropping to his knees was obviously not it. Not that he had given her reason to complain. Replacing fingers with tongue, he hadn't given her anything to complain about at all. Easily separating her taste from _his_.

Roy carefully pulled his coat closed as he passed a couple. Neither noticed him, but it still wouldn't do to have anyone see the state he was in. He should have waited until he was home.

It was hard to wait with every memory still so fresh though. The taste of horrible whiskey, the smell of cigarettes, the feeling of sex, the _taste_ of sex. The woman was incidental, all of them were. The only thing that ever mattered was that they'd been with _him_.

How much closer could he get? He knew Jean's taste, he knew Jean's smell, he _knew_ Jean. Roy had all but had the man himself.

Roy stopped in the shadowed recess of a door, leaning his head back against the cool stone. He took a deep measured breath, letting it out slowly. Deliberately banishing his previous thoughts. Deliberately ignoring the aching need, the persistence of his own hard cock straining against the seams of his pants. Doing nothing but breathing and ignoring until he was finally able to walk again.

He wasn't satisfied with the women anymore. Not by a long shot, but until he could have Jean for himself it would have to do.

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End file.
